


The Beauty and the Beast

by Invincible_Voldemort



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Beauty and the Beast Elements, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fantasy, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:26:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23876890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Invincible_Voldemort/pseuds/Invincible_Voldemort
Summary: After the death of his parents, Prince Perseus has become arrogant and dominating, showing no kindness to those who have brought him up. His selfish nature leads him to refuse an old lady's plea for help. In turn, she curses him to be the very thing he dreads, a beast. But, there is one way to break the spell: to fall in love. Enter Annabeth Chase 200 years later...
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published August 21st, 2013.

**_Prologue- circa 1800 A.D._ **

The fair kingdom of Montauk had been long ruled by the benevolent King Poseidon and his lady, the giving Queen Amphitrite. The two had ruled the land for decades in peace, never seeming to age. They were loved by those whom they ruled, readily accepting to listen to their subjects with an open mind.

The couple had had a son, Prince Triton, years previously only to meet his unfortunate demise to the bubonic plague that had taken control of the region half a century before. The loss of the heir to the throne had put the entire kingdom in despair, struggling to comprehend what it would mean if they shalt lose their generous king. The king and queen had spent years trying to conceive a child but to no avail. The castle itself was in a state of gloom without the presence of a child.

One fine day, an old beggar woman cloaked in dirty rags approached their highnesses. Her ragged breath and stench gave her an aura of a vagabond. The rats' nest of a hair was covered by the hood which she had pulled over her head. Warts and moles covered her gaunt face. She opened her mouth to smile, revealing two lone teeth standing, "Your Majesties, if I may…"

She paused at this point, digging deep into her long, mouse-bitten cloak, pulling out an object. The queen glanced at the beggar lady in front of her with some curiosity. She had seen many destitute subjects before, but this woman was far beyond the realm of even being labeled poor.

The old woman proffered the object to the queen's hand before falling back down to a floor, her hunch prominent, "Milady, please accept this as a gift of your humble subject, June."

Queen Amphitrite held up the bright red pomegranate in her hand as though to examine it. She had never seen the likes of the fruit before, not quite sure whether to trust the old woman or not. Not knowing what to reply, she set it aside, bowing her head once at the witch-like lady, "Thank you."

The old lady cackled with glee and amusement, "My queen, do not take this gift lightly. The pomegranate is the symbol of fertility and marriage, my dear. And if I do recall, this gift is to help you. But do remember, as with all gifts, this too comes with deep sorrow."

With that one simple word, a bright flashed, revealing a tall, young beautiful woman in front of the couple. She stood boldly and confidently, a diadem atop her head. By her side, her hand stood stroking a peculiar bird, with its own unique crown like head and multicolored feathered tail. Within an instant, she had disappeared, leaving behind a single feather which appeared to have an eye like image at the top.

The king blinked in surprise, wondering if he had in fact imagined the whole scene, yet, there was proof right in the hands of his queen. To be honest, King Poseidon was frightened by the look on his wife's face.

She had once again picked up the fruit, holding it close to her mouth, pressing her lips against it. She stood in amazement, her face one of pure desire and greed as she opened her mouth to bite into it. He watched in astonishment as she deliberately took a bite, her lips and teeth immediately staining with a reddish hue.

The queen's hand paused momentarily. King Poseidon looked on at the scene in slow motion as the fruit fell gracefully from her hands rolling steadily down the throne stairs till it reached the bottom with a soft thud.

Little red jewels adorned the stairs from where the fruit had rolled. Upon closer examination, the seeds of the fruit resembled little beads of blood dotting the surface of the throne room. The king felt the air chill around him momentarily before he heard the sound or piercing shriek.

He turned back with fear in his eyes to find his queen slouched on her throne, her face a mask contorted in pain.

* * *

_**9 months later** _

"The queen has given birth," a joyous voice tempted across the streets of Montauk. The day had been declared a national holiday upon the announcement of the merry news. Peasants and nobles alike celebrated the day by drinking and eating sweetmeats prepared, courtesy of the castle.

The castle employees knew no bounds as they swept it top to bottom, making sure ever nick and corner had been dusted once over. Ms. Jackson, head of the kitchen, beamed with joy as she watched the spectacle. She was in charge of the feast to be prepared in honor of the child's birth. It was under her command that carts of drinks and meats had been taken to the common people.

The jubilant news had brought merriment to the castle, and it was seen throughout. The dark mood had been uplifted to reveal light. It was as though a cloak had been pulled off the household. Ms. Jackson held another special position; she was to be the child's wet nurse once the midwife had finished with the baby's delivery.

She remained in the center of the hall watching her close friend, Chiron, directing the servants in the meanwhile as she stood waiting to be called. Chiron was the 'maître de chateau', master of the castle. He was in charge of the servants along with Mr. Dionysus, the 'majordome', also another name for someone who oversaw the castle's daily affairs.

Sally Jackson noticed amidst the festivities a spectacle which would change her life. The pale face of the king as he rushed passed the hall in heavy stride. He beckoned to her with a long finger, ordering her to follow suit. She complied with her king's wishes as they ascended the flight of stairs leading to the queen's chamber.

"Your highness," she began with a questioning look. She had noted the droplets of sweat against her monarch's face, dulling his visage. He simply said nothing, giving her a sorrowful look as he knocked once on the wooden door at the top of the tower.

The door swung open to reveal a dimly lit room. A person stood standing in front of the red curtained windows, the light illuminating his outline.

"Your sire," he began, only to be cut off by a shrill voice coming from near the bed.

"She's dead! Your highness!" a young lady's voice shrieked with a blood-curling sound. "The child. The boy! He's a monster— a monster who has killed his mother." The midwife slumped to the ground in defeat as though it taken all her energy to speak.

The king was quick with his words as he directed his inquiries to the physician, "Is it true? Is my wife dead?!"

Dr. Apollo replied solemnly, not bothering to address the question, "I see dark days ahead." The king stared steadily out the curtained window, noting its bloodstained red color, the sounds of the weeping midwife remained in the background. "Perseus," he whispered.

* * *

_**16 years later** _

The king followed suit a year after the demise of his wife. Unable to tolerate the unbearable grief of her death, it had overcome him till he too was a mere shell. He had not been able to face his son, a mere baby, who had murdered his mother in birth. The king had shut himself off from the world, refusing to let any come near. In this sorrow he waded in, he died sleeping one night, vanishing from the world just like his wife.

The young prince did not feel the absence of his parents. His wet nurse, Sally Jackson, doted on him like he was her own child. Though the child was aloof, he always had a special soft corner for the woman who was like his mother. He would never openly admit to her that he felt comfort in her presence.

Without the company of other children his age, the child would spend time exploring the castle. Many of the servants had left after the king's death, but others remained under the supervision of Mr. Dionysus and Chiron. In fact, the entire kingdom ran under the two. Although not as prosperous as it once was, the daily lives of the people went on.

As he spent most of his time with adults, the child had given up on the idea of sharing and hospitality. To him, the world was at his feet, waiting to serve him. It wasn't that he was delusional, but to him, that's how life was.

The castle and its servants went out of its way to serve the next in heir to the throne. The older he got, the more arrogant he became, taking his hostile nature to new levels as he fired poor servants and peasants under his dominion without cause. He had become selfish and unkind from the spoiled nature he had been treated with. Ms. Jackson did her best to stop him, only to be shunned by him too.

Now, sixteen years later, the lad had blossomed into a handsome gentleman. He was the talk of the kingdom with his ebony locks and sea green eyes. He was said to have resembled his father, the late gentleman king. There was one sole exception. He had the disposition of a narcissist. He would be often times found locked in his tower staring at his portrait on the wall. The painting was adorned by a golden frame. The prince would spend several hours in front of his image, deeply immersed by it.

One stormy night, as the prince, yet again, stood in front of his picture, the bell rung, signaling the arrival of a visitor. The prince was not accustomed to people visiting his castle as many ties had been cut off from the remaining kingdoms.

He approached to open the door, only to be immediately blasted by the cold wind and rain hailing from outside. At the doorstep to the castle stood an old woman shivering in the rain. She had a sense of beauty for her age but the prince dismissed her with a sneer at the sight of an old, aging woman in front of him.

"Get out," he commanded.

The lady dug within her robes to pull out an olive branch, "My dear boy. I have nowhere else to go. Please offer me some shelter. Take this as a token of my gratitude."

"I do not need some old woman's gratitude. I have no connections with such people. Now, if you will do as I have ordered, do leave."

"My dear son, do not be deceived by appearances," she warned lightly. In response, Prince Perseus shut the large wooden door on her with a loud bang, leaving the old woman out in the freezing sleet.

As he turned to return, he found himself facing a stunning young woman. Her gorgeous face was hidden partially by the robes she was wearing. It was the same robe donned by the old lady he had just turned away.

A stray golden curl escaped from the hood of the cloak. As he looked up to face her, the eyes of the woman changed drastically, going through every which color of the rainbow. A scowl dominated the woman's otherwise soft features, scaring the prince with her threatening glower.

Prince Perseus immediately kneeled at the feet of the lady, begging for her forgiveness at having treated her so harshly.

"Prince Perseus of Montauk, I, Lady Aphrodite, shall not take this offence lightly. It is not only me to which you show no kindness, but to those who have nourished and cherished you. You have no love in your heart. I shall once more offer you this olive branch which shall blossom under your care. And for when you truly begin to love someone, the branch will slowly wilt each passing day. If you are unable to make the girl love you in return before the plant dies, you too will remain in this beast like form as will your servants."

With that statement, the woman's figure appeared to become larger with each passing moment, a bright light blinding the prince's sight momentarily. He shielded his eyes as the light dimmed, unable to comprehend the lady's words.

Two things remained behind: an olive branch and a shield of armor. The images in the back depicted a man with a sword in his hand. Not a man to be exact, but a half man and half bull.

Prince Perseus turned the shield over to find its shimmering silvery surface constantly seeming to move under the light. Slowly, the image began to focus with every passing second. An image that the prince could never forget as the armor reflected back his own visage.

He had become the monster on the front of his shield, the Minotaur. He had become…A beast.


	2. Chapter 2

_**New York 2013** _

Annabeth was, as usual, found in the library, away from the hustle and bustle of the crowded roads of the teeming city of Manhattan. While most young woman her age were found in the shores of the Atlantic Ocean, enjoying the beach those last few days before school restarted, Annabeth had taken a head start on the year.

She had wanted to start her final year at college with a bang. Although her classes were not scheduled to start for another two and a half weeks at Syracuse in New York, she went ahead to start reading the books in advance for her major, architecture.

To Annabeth, reading and schoolwork was no chore as it had become a regular part of her life. From a bright young age, Annabeth had been fascinated by the idea of buildings and designs. Her mother, Athena Chase, had been an architect herself. Fascinated by her mother's drawings at that age, Annabeth soon found herself following her mother's footsteps in hopes to achieve her dream.

As with most children who had lost their parents at a young age, Annabeth held only vague memories of the lady who had given birth to her. She had died while Annabeth was at the tender age of seven. In a sense, at least in Annabeth's mind, it was as though her mother was living vicariously through her by majoring in architect as well.

Annabeth's father, Dr. Frederick Chase, a history professor at West Point was torn up by the loss of his daughter. In the words of many, he had gone mad, his mentality a sense broken or adulterated by the loss of his wife. For years, he would be found locked away in his room at West Point when not teaching. Not many knew what occurred in the room, but he was later coined 'the excellent mad scientist'.

Annabeth was used to her father's oddities and had not minded much when she grew up. As doting as Frederick Chase was to his daughter, he could not fill up the empty gap left by her mother. In addition, Dr. Chase was not the best in being father. Yes, he was kind and attentive to her wishes, but he couldn't give her what she needed most, companionship. When he was locked away in his lab, Annabeth would wander into the college's library, drawing her knowledge from the shelves of books in the large building allocated specifically on history and battle strategy.

…And to this day, Annabeth Chase was still found in libraries. And that was where she was, unable to understand how people managed to bear the insufferable heat whilst tanning in the beach. The idea just didn't appeal much to her.

As she flipped eagerly through the book on the wooden desk in front of her, it was as though Annabeth was immersed in her own world, imagining herself designing the structures featured in said book.

She was so deeply into her book that she did not notice the shadow overcast over her book page. Not even the slight cough from the man distracted her. It was not until her book was snatched away from her plain sight did her eyes trail up and follow the path of the book.

Her silvery grey eyes met the light blue of the person in front of her. An amused smirk played around his lips as he turned the book upside down in attempt to make sense of it.

"Luke, give the book back now," she said calmly, not willing for her hot temper to take control of her tongue. She knew that showing her anger would only backfire and further Luke's amusement.

"Why should I Annie?" he leaned forward as though to kiss her, the book in his arm far above.

"Don't call me that," she muttered, pushing back her chair to stand up, pushing him back in surprise in the process. She stood on her tiptoes in attempt to grab the book from him. Despite her above average height, Luke held a good half foot above her, taunting as she made a grab for the book. He lowered the book as if it were bait. With a quick lunge, Annabeth grabbed it, a victorious smile on her face

…That was until she realized she had fallen into his trap, his arm now wrapped securely around her waist as he brought her closer. Luke brought his finger closer, tracing the outline of her lip, trailing it down to her chin. He lifted it up, closing his eyes as he brought her face closer.

A loud smack echoed through the otherwise quiet walls of the library. A red burning sensation appeared on Luke's cheek and his eyes darkened in an inexpressible emotion. "What was that for?" he demanded hotly, his temper getting the better of him.

"You didn't give me back my book," she stated simply.

"Annabeth, you don't want to regret this later," he said warningly.

"Then what do you suggest I do, Luke?" she threw her hands up in exasperation as she sighed, earning a pointed look from the librarian.

"Be my girlfriend."

"No. The answer was no four years ago, and the answer is still no." Annabeth had met Luke the first week of college, a.k.a orientation week. What had started off as a friendship quickly took a dark turn when Luke began to expect more. The mere touch of his fingers brushing against her shoulders gave Annabeth the shivers.

It wasn't that Annabeth hadn't like him back, but his attitude and personality had always put her off. Luke's outlook on the world was rather limited. Whatever Luke wanted, Luke got. Most of the time, it worked that way too. But not for Annabeth. She felt that being in a relationship with Luke would just make her his personal servant.

And to tie things up with a bow, Luke was narcissistic jealous type. He had double standards of course. He was allowed to make people green with envy but not the other way around. Not that it had worked on Annabeth. To be honest, she wasn't sure his excuse was even valid. The whole trying to make her jealous thing seemed invalid.

Luke had always had a following of girls trailing behind him. Simply put, he was a player and a mean one at that too. Each week, Annabeth would find him smirking in her direction in the mess hall as he had his arm around another girl, his hand dangerously close to her ass. The girl, generally a ditzy platinum blond would be leaning in to whisper in his ear. He would nod as though he actually cared while in fact, he would simply stare at Annabeth.

Every week turned out to be a routine. The girl he had gone home with on Friday night would come back Tuesday like a shipwreck, makeup undone, and eyes red and welling with tears. Luke would go about his routine and by mid-Wednesday, another girl was beside him.

One would expect an anti-Luke club to crop up by then, but no. The girls blamed it on themselves. Saying it was their fault Luke had broken up with them for not being good in bed.

Annabeth did her best to stay out of the commotion until one day. A girl by the name of Silena Beauregard had gone home with Luke one Friday night like any other, falsely cheery and engaged in a conversation with Luke. The girl was normally a bubbly character, but she had recently broken up with her boyfriend Charles Beckendorf over a petty squabble, leading them to temporarily avoid one another. It was nothing too serious, but the two had called it quits for the time being.

What Silena had done was a dangerous thing: playing the player.

When she didn't return on Tuesday, it was rather surprising. Most girls generally took Monday to 'recover' from the break-up, but Silena didn't show up. Halfway through the day Wednesday, Charles had been pulled out of Sustainable Urbanism and Architecture class by an administrator.

He wasn't heard of till the funeral. Silena had hung herself. Fresh bruises dotted her upper forearm, tinges of purple, yellow, and green. Needless to say, Luke hadn't shown up. A week after, Annabeth had gone to confront Luke over it. He had pushed her up against the wall, his breath low and hoarse. He fiddled with the top button of her shirt as he spoke, "Either be my girlfriend…or stay out of my life!" His eyes had been livid with hatred as he spoke with finality. He turned away in fit of temper, not daring to near her the remainder of the year.

That had been sophomore year of college. As junior year rolled along, he still had a strong following. What Charles and Annabeth knew about the guy's record had been kept under wraps. Meanwhile, girls continued to fawn over him. It was as though nothing had changed. Even Luke's personality went back to what it had been before. Annabeth wasn't sure if he had disregarded and downscaled the incident or whether he was in fact bipolar.

It was difficult to tell with his constantly change in attitudes.

What caused Annabeth to recall the scenario had been the glare in his eyes as she refused him once more. It frightened her to be honest. The eyes had the looks of a killer…She had seen those eyes before. Those murderer's eyes after Silena's funeral.

She watched him walk off again, an aura of darkness resounding with each step. The mood had gradually darkened by his presence. Annabeth felt a chill go deep in her spine from where he had held her.

She glanced once at her watch, cursing under her breath once she realized the time. She was to be home in a half hour to see her father off for the convention he was going to.

Fifteen minutes later, Annabeth found herself pulling into the parking garage of the apartment. It was conveniently located within a short range from both her college and her father's job. Dr. Chase was already packed for the weekend retreat with a large suitcase in his hand (containing more documents than clothes).

"I was wondering where you were," he said with a chuckle.

"I'm sorry dad. Lost track of time in the library. You know how I am with books."

"Oh I do, trust me," he smiled wanly at his daughter.

"You alright?" she asked with concern.

"Just have a slight cold," he responded. "Nothing to worry about it."

"Wait one moment while I get you a scarf."

"Annabeth," he laughed, "Stop worrying about your old man. It's summer for goodness' sake."

"Still," she looked at him pointedly as she handed it off. "Don't have too much fun."

"Relax, it's simply another history convention at Montauk resort. I'll be back before you know it," he winked.

Annabeth scoffed, "You're worried about me? I'm more worried about you and your cold. Not to mention your crappy car which barely looks like it can last another road trip."

Dr. Chase clasped his daughter's face in his hands, bending down to kiss her forehead, "Calm down. If you need anything, you know my number." He waved goodbye once as he exited the flat via the door.

As he left, Annabeth felt a sense of foreboding…as though the next time they were to meet would not be under favorable conditions.


	3. Chapter 3

Dr. Fredrick Chase paid no heed to his daughter's warning regarding the decrepit, old car. It had lasted him for a good number of years before she was born, and there was no reason to believe it would fail now.

He had been looking forward to the three day retreat these last few weeks, eager to share his own findings in the latest of Greek battle formation by the hoplites in the army. Furthermore, he was particularly interested in hearing the discourse about Roman battalions by a close college friend of his, Dr. Bobby Matthews.

He started up the car, the engine producing the ever-present grating noise. The 'service engine' sign flashed but he waved it dismissively knowing that he had a good 200 miles before anything serious happened.

As he pulled out of the apartment's garage, he found his daughter standing at the balcony window with her arms propped up against the metal railing. She waved a quick good-bye before he drove on out of sight.

Fredrick began fiddling with the GPS, punching in the address for Montauk. The drive there was supposed to take two and a half hours from the main city to the south shore of Long Island. Looking at the online site for the bed and breakfast resort, he had come across magnificent pictures demonstrating the beauty of the area.

Right beyond the small resort laid the Atlantic Ocean in all its ocean blue glory with the sun shining down on it benevolently. If he was being truthful, Fredrick would have admitted that the main reason for going was that the locale was so beautiful. Not to mention that college professors were sponsored by companies to attend.

Turning the dial on the radio of his Camry '86, the car began to play some new-fangled pop song by the name of We Can't Stop by that one Disney girl…Hannah Montana was it? Her shrill, constipated voice bothered him to no ends, causing him to change the station to some old country song which he didn't particularly enjoy either.

He had just passed Queens and now on the freeway heading to Montauk. The single-lane, two way traffic road was dotted with a few other cars here and there from what the eye could see. The entire stretch was lined with tall, imposing evergreen trees, blocking the view of the ocean on one side.

It reminded him of an occasion when his wife was still alive. Athena Chase had been an avid naturalist, always enthralled by the beauty of the Earth, slightly appalled that her husband had chosen a profession which involved sitting in a musty old classroom. Annabeth had been merely three years old at the time when they had gone trekking once in the forests, similar to the evergreen trees currently present.

He pulled over at a BP gas station, filling up the fuel before he hit the road again. He managed the grab a quick ham and cheese sandwich from the station to eat en route. Glancing at his watch, the time read 6:30 P.M. He had only been traveling for an hour yet it felt like a day on the endless freeway.

After another fifty miles or so of traveling down the same road, and an unintentional mustard stain on his khakis, Fredrick began to notice that the sun had already begun to set, leaving him with another 45 minutes of traveling. He had taken it at a leisurely pace while munching on his sandwich, not bothering to hit the speed limit.

At one point, he came across a forked exit. The GPS froze momentarily, the screen turning black then on, then black, then on. When it had finished recalculating, it told him to turn back. Fredrick realized it was a lost cause and that the device had lost its signal.

Though he would preferred continuing along the freeway, he knew he was to take an exit somewhere, he just couldn't remember the number. The exit was to take him away from the freeway and in deeper, closer to the ocean. The resort was located in a small, enclosed area after all.

Despite better judgment, Dr. Chase proceeded into the exit with his fingers crossed. The night was beginning to fall rapidly as the sun had gone down, the moon slowly creeping up to the top of the sky.

It couldn't be too far. From what he remembered, the resort was a half hour down on the same road of the exit. He had the address of the resort need be.

There was not a single other car in site as he drove further into the darkness. Turning on the headlight did little for him as it merely showed a vast expanse of more darkness. The once refreshing evergreen trees had taken on a mere eerie appearance in the lack of light. The moon's pale shade cast a silvery yellow glow on the road in front of him.

An hour passed before Fredrick realized he should have already arrived at the resort. Thoughts of a warm, comfortable bed and a cup of hot chocolate on arrival made him warm up slightly. Just when he thought things couldn't possibly get any creepier…

The radio stopped abruptly. Not that he minded with that horrible, dying music called country music. But the radio broke back in, the channels beginning to change rapidly on their own, a cool breeze swept pass him, causing him to shiver.

Eventually, even the radio realized it was a lost cause, ceasing all music. The static filled the speakers with its high pitched noise. Fredrick hit various buttons to stop the radio but nothing happened. At that moment, the lights of the car began to flash on and off incessantly.

He hadn't even touched anything! The car was rolling at this point without Fredrick steering. The lights flashing, the radio playing static, and the car moving as though it were attracted to something. Then, as suddenly as it happened, the car stopped moving, refusing to budge from its spot.

The 'service engine' sign came back on, flashing an eerie neon green at a faster paste. Fredrick hastened to get out of the car with a flashlight in his hand. Doing this had caused the car to begin honking. He kicked the car in frustration, leaving a nice dent on the side.

Why hadn't he listened to Annabeth?! This piece of junk.

The watch now read 6:66. Wait a minute! That wasn't an actual time. He glanced back at it once more after clearing his eyes. The clock now read 9:15 PM. He took out the phone in his pocket. Luckily, the battery wasn't dead. Unfortunately, there was not a single bar of service.

He threw the phone on the ground in desperation. He knew AT&T would fail him when he needed it most. The car was still flashing its headlights and the horn still going off like a demon child had possessed it.

It was then when he saw it, or thought he saw it. Against the illumination of the car's lights stood a high towering building. But almost immediately, it was gone as though it had never existed. A hazy mist seemed to be covered, the fog in the way to see anything clearly. And then, the headlights flashed again. No, it wasn't a building; it was a castle.

Fredrick approached it slowly, daring to take a step only when the car headlight flashed. But, the closer he got, the more different it looked. At this point, he was sure he was hallucinating. This was all just a bad dream.

When he rubbed his eyes, the image had changed. Could it be…? It was Montauk Resort! A board hung from the front of the short cabin like structure. A warm, glowing appearance made it look homey from the outside. Fredrick was in a rush to enter, away from the madness of the outside.

It had just been his eyes playing tricks on him after all. The car too seemed to have quieted down with no lights flashing. It had all just been a simple nightmare. He had simply let fear take control of him while traveling alone. It was nothing more. Nothing more.

He opened it, ready to greet his friends. But, he did not expect what he saw. It was pure darkness. It was as though he had left one darkness to join another. A small candle light flickered gently, the flame slowly dying… That was…rustic.

It did not have the appearance he had imagined it to be at all. In fact, it was hard to see anything. No one had mentioned the medieval theme in the site. They had only posted pictures of the outside view.

"Hello," he called out. "Fredrick Chase, I believe I have a room booked here under that name."

Silence.

"Hello," he tried again. "Anyone." At this point, he was wondering if it was just a big joke they were pulling on him. "Bobby, you here? Yes, you all hid, it was fun, now, can we plus cut this out. I'm starving and tired. God, I feel weird."

A sudden chill swept him as he took the candle by hand. He heard the sounds of clip-clop clip-clop resonating through the hall. The place was deceptively larger than it had looked. But that noise…it sounded like…horses?

Another noise caused him to leap. The sound of heavy, haggard breathing. He made a sweeping motion with the candle. "Hello?"

"We heard you the first time!" an irritable voice replied.

"Bobby?"

"No, not Bobby," he said in the same tone. Two figures stepped forward causing Dr. Chase to stumble back, extinguishing the already weak flame. They were the most odd creatures he had ever seen.

One had an angered face, the other a more courteous one. But that wasn't what surprised him. The irritated one was a short, pudgy looking man, but he was all green. It was as though he were made of vines. To further prove the theory, where his fingers should have been were red grapes!

The other man was equally peculiar. A long thin, but genial face, he sported an out of proportion body. To put it bluntly, the lower half of his body was horse. Like that in Greek mythology. What were they called? Centaurs.

Dr. Chase reached out hesitantly from the ground as though trying to see if they were real. A firm hand pulled him up and on to the back…of a horse. A light suddenly lit up the corridor, causing Fredrick to gasp in astonishment at the marvel in front of him.

The room was not small as he had initially thought it to be, but massive. A giant hall adorned with paintings of the sea everywhere. To the left were two pairs of grand, ornate stairs that led to either wing. To his right was a smaller hall with a burning fire, the light illuminating the settings. A large chair sat in front.

"Where—Where am I?" he stuttered.

"Montauk Castle," the grape man said matter-of-factly, as though it were common knowledge.

"Dionysus," horse-man chided, "Be nice! The poor man is lost, and it is our duty, as masters of the castle to be hospitable."

"If the master knows…" the other man looked around warily, lowering his voice.

"What harm will it do?"

Dionysus slapped his forehead, "You were always a kind-hearted fool, Chiron! You know what will happen."

"Don't worry, nothing will happen."

Dr. Chase watched in amazement as the two creatures talked, or argued. He then realized he was on Chiron's back. It was as though he were riding a real horse. The man led him to the fireplace, allowing him to sit on the large, comfy armchair in front.

Fredrick removed his shoes which had become cold, warming up his nearly-frostbitten toes.

"Please, that stench is unbearable," Dionysus complained.

"Sorry," he apologized feeling abashed.

Chiron looked like he was ready to throw Dionysus into the fire. "Would you care for a cup of tea sir?"

"I'm more of a coffee person," Dr. Chase said, but added hastily, "But it's no trouble."

"Ingrate," Dionysus muttered.

Chiron ignored his companion, clapping his hand once to summon another servant. A rather large lady arrived with another man following her. Only until they were within a few meters away did Dr. Chase really realize how tall they were. They were ginormous. The male taller than the female, yet less mature looking. It was hard to get a good look at their faces even as they seemed to rise into the ceiling.

"Coffee sir?" the woman asked with a motherly tone of voice. She beckoned the man behind her. He knelt down beside Dr. Chase with a cup in his hand. The woman leaned down pouring the hot liquid drink. Only after she had done so, did she allow for a small smile.

Dr. Chase gasped, almost dropping the drink on his already soiled pants. The woman had only one eye. A large blue eye right in the middle. The younger man too had a calf brown eye. "But, you're…" Fredrick began.

"Sally Jackson," she smiled benevolently. "That is my son Tyson." The boy gave him a toothy grin, a few teeth missing.

"Alright, hurry up. Get going. Master will come to hear of this at any moment."

"Lighten up, Dionysus," Sally chided.

"Oh, you two make me mad!" he sat down on the carpeted floor, pouting like a child. Sally shook her head exasperatedly with the faintest hint of a smile.

"But you're all…Mythological?"

Chiron's expression darkened, "We were not always so. It has been years since…"

He didn't finish as the room began to tremble. The flames extinguished by themselves, and Tyson whimpered into his mother's arm.

"I told you. I told you," Dionysus muttered to himself. "Now what is he going to do with us?!"

"Master," Chiron began in a tone of reasoning. "The man was lost…" He was cut short by a deafening roar.

"Your highness, if I may," Dionysus began, "I told them. I told these fools. But would they listen? I am no traitor." He too was silenced into tears by a low deep growl.

"So, you let anyone enter?" a menacing voice whispered, but carried far, echoing in the room. "You all KNOW WHAT HAPPENED THE LAST TIME SOMEONE CAME! THIS!" The tone steadily had increased till it was full out screaming.

Dr. Chase heard someone approach closer. He felt something heavy on his chair, the chair being dragged and causing grating noises against the tiles of the fireplace. "Get out!" a warm breath hit his face, causing him to almost gag.

"You won't get out?" he began threateningly.

"No, sir, I mean, yes… I will…"

"Have it your way. Be my guest…In the dungeon!" at that moment, a flash of lightning streaked across the sky, just enough for Dr. Chase to make a clear image in his mind. It was the most hideous thing he had seen to that day.

There in front of him stood a man: half man, half bull. His black skin had two protruding horns. But it was the eyes the scared him the most. They switched between a deep firey, red and a menacing eerie sea green.


End file.
